


The Christmas Tree

by heavenorspace, twobirdsonesong



Series: A Boy and His Wolf [12]
Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A Boy and His Wolf, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Drabble, M/M, Wolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 08:19:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5409734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavenorspace/pseuds/heavenorspace, https://archiveofourown.org/users/twobirdsonesong/pseuds/twobirdsonesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles gets a helping hand (paw?) decorating the Christmas tree.</p><p>A very tiny and belated birthday gift for <a href="http://oldcoyote.tumblr.com">Gigi</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Christmas Tree

**Author's Note:**

> A Boy and His Wolf is a collaborative project between [heavenorspace](http://archiveofourown.org/users/heavenorspace/pseuds/heavenorspace) and myself.
> 
> It is a series of vignettes, out of chronological order, set in a world where Derek, in the form of a wolf, first encountered Stiles when he was a toddler playing in the woods. Derek is under strict pack orders not to reveal himself as werewolf to the human boy and must only interact with him as a wolf. When Stiles is a child, their relationship is strictly platonic and protective in nature. As Stiles grows older that begins to change.
> 
> Each drabble will be accompanied by a piece of art drawn by heavenorspace.

 

 

“You know, I really think we need to reevaluate this whole notion of Santa Claus,” Stiles muses as he hangs another sparkling ornament on the tree.  “Seems a bit odd that while a parent is trying to teach the value of honesty and truth to a child as they grow up, instill a sense of right and wrong and all that, they’re simultaneously lying to that child about a fat man with pet reindeer bringing them presents once a year.  Don’t you think that’s weird?”

 

Stiles glances down.  Sitting patiently at his feet is his big, shaggy wolf, staring up at him with golden eyes.

 

“Well?”

 

The wolf whuffs and shakes his big head, ruffling his glossy fur.

 

“I totally agree,” Stiles exclaims, gesturing broadly. “We should just be _honest_ with kids about Christmas.”  Stiles bends down and grabbed a tiny, tissue-wrapped bundle from inside the battered cardboard box that holds the Stilinski’s Christmas ornaments.  “I mean, what’s so wrong with just saying ‘hey little Timmy, your mom and dad, or mom and mom, or dad and dad, or just dad, or just mom – they love you, and once a year they want to celebrate that love by giving you gifts you may or may not want.  It doesn’t really make sense, but it’s better than an old man breaking and entering.”

 

The wolf snorts in what Stiles assumes is agreement. Sometimes it’s hard to tell.

 

The Christmas tree is an overly grand thing with full branches and thickly sweet scent of pine.  It barely fits into the corner of the living room it’s shoved into.  Stiles and his dad picked it out the other day from the little stand in the grocery store parking lot, and managed to get it home strapped to the roof of the police cruiser without incident, which is saying something.

 

Stiles has already decked the boughs with twinkling white lights and just a hint of gold tinsel.  The wolf helped, holding the ends of the strings of lights delicately between his viciously sharp teeth while Stiles wrapped the lights around and around the tree.  Stiles has set aside the tree topper for when the Sheriff gets home from his shift. It seems only right to let his dad have that tradition.

 

“Hand me another.”  Stiles holds his hand out until he feels the gentle bump of a cool, wet nose against his fingertips.  Cradled ever so carefully in the wolf’s powerful jaws is a little glass globe etched with Stiles’ birthday.

 

Stiles looks at it for a moment, holding it in his palm. The glass is cool and smooth under his fingertips, rougher where the surface has been marked with his date of birth.  It was a gift from his dad to his mom, Stiles knows that much, and he remembers that it was always Claudia’s favorite to hang on the tree.  The lights sparkling in her eyes and off her jewelry while she carefully hung the bauble on a branch.

 

A gentle huff and the bump of a big, heavy head against his hip has Stiles pulling his thoughts back to the present. His wolf is looking up at him with those deep, unfathomable, yet somehow familiar eyes.  Stiles sighs.

 

“I know, I know.”  Stiles quickly hangs the ornament on the tree, high enough where it’s easily spotted by all, but in no danger of getting knocked off.

 

Stiles steps back and scrutinizes his work. There are still a few ornaments left to hang, but the tree is looking bright and merry.  A job done well enough.  Teeth tug on the sleeve of his sweater and Stiles lets himself get pulled down to the floor.

 

The wolf flops gracefully on the rug next to him, curving to give Stiles room to lean comfortably against his side. The wolf has grown tall and a bit gangly over the years, his fur gone shaggier and fluffier as of late, and Stiles wonders if he’s a teenager like him, going through awkward growth spurts just like he is.  It’s too bad he can’t just _ask_.

 

Stiles snuggles down, letting his body relax against the solid weight of the wolf as he gazes up at the tree.

 

Outside it’s snowing gently and the wolf’s slow heartbeat is a comforting rhythm while Stiles waits for his dad to get home.


End file.
